Grieving A Break-Up

I suppose we all grieve differently.

I've been grieving for weeks over this break-up. Crying - sobbing. Avoiding. Numbing. Rage. Denying. Trying to change it.

And finally acceptance, but not without some strong feelings of betrayal and questions of why.

He says he has to go through the grieving process after I'm gone. I suppose... although I told him it just seems like he wants me to be gone...will be happy when I am out.

That's how it comes across, anyway.

Weeks of watching him go out and party and talk with friends...share my intimate details...while I sat here or at my sitting spot, grieving - even being chastised for it.

But I've grieved and I don't even think I'm done yet.

A friend asked me if she thought we would ever get back together and I said that I didn't know... the one thing I can't get past is the walking away when I needed him most. Giving up so quickly, saying and doing all the wrong things to someone (me) who needed so much patience and compassion.

Of course, I made my mistakes too, but my friends assure me (as does my therapist) that these "mistakes" are part of my healing process.

They say divorce is the second most stressful thing to go through in life; second only to someone dying. I disagree with that. I've been through divorce.

Going through the process of healing from incest and rape is by far the most painful thing I've ever done. Accepting my diagnoses; looking inside at myself; And even though I have friends that are helping me, I still feel this sense of alone-ness; like I can't burden them. It's kind of like, "Just let me do this work and you'll see the outcome...I'm afraid for anyone to see."

We  move - my son and I - this weekend, to our new place. I am petrified and excited; hurt and elated; nervous and confident; hopeful but so, so angry at myself for being a failure... for never being enough. For letting him down.

Blaming myself. Cursing myself for sharing so much - too much - of myself. I should have known better. I never should have let my guard down; never should have expected him to be able to handle the stress and pain that comes from this process. I cringe when I think of the secrets I've told him, knowing he's told so many people about so much of my personal life. I absolutely die inside, wishing I'd never uttered a word.

It's easy to blame the girl who cuts and suffers from suicide ideation who's in therapy and on medications. It's easy to blame the one with the obvious problems. And it's perfectly rational that she would grieve in the ways she does....right? No....not right. I grieved the loss of him with words of anger and betrayal. Utter disbelief. And even envy.

I blame myself for this... this guttural reaction to the pain I was going through. Oh God the agony of being so fucked up that he can't even love you... nobody can, especially now. Now that everyone knows. Everyone knows. I am so ashamed.

Is that part of grieving? Being ashamed?

My emotions are all over the place, although - because the move-in date is nearer - my energy is picking up and I'm feeling a little more hopeful, my emotions are still so crazy.

So much I wish I could change.

So much that I know will change.